


Regrets to Live By

by RedKingKelly



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Jean asks a question, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, The answer is more than he bargained for, Threesome - M/M/M, drabble chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-07-12 11:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKingKelly/pseuds/RedKingKelly
Summary: "But why? We- we're friends, but you don't like us? What did we do?""Because, Kirchstein. You make my brother a liar."EreJeanMarco. Other squad pairings before we get there. Other inter-squad ships beside them. Modern AU.





	1. Chapter 1

It all started, as most things concerning their friend group did, at a party thrown by Connie and Sasha, for no other reason than that they felt like it. Almost everybody was out in the backyard; Eren and Ymir were playing beer pong, and most of the crew was gathered around them, jeering and cheering in equal measure. As far as Jean Kirchstein knew, there were only three people in the house. It was the perfect time.

"Tonight's the night, Marco," Jean slurred drunkenly. "I'm definitely gonna ask her tonight."

Marco grinned back just as drunkenly, waving him on from his blanket nest on the floor behind their hosts' sofa. Jean took a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked, before about-facing and marching (staggering) over to the kitchen where Mikasa Ackerman was leaning against the wall, looking as cool and as beautiful as ever. She was gazing outside through the open sliding door, probably keeping an eye on her brother and Armin, and Jean hated to interrupt her life's mission, he really did, but…

"Mikasa!" Jean had never taken such a demanding tone with the intimidating girl before. He wouldn't ever do it again, because the look she gave him was terrifying.

"Kirchstein." Mikasa's head tilted slightly to the left, her lovely dark hair swaying with the motion. "What is it?"

Jean took a deep breath, knowing that if he couldn't ask now, even with all his drunken bravado, he wouldn't ever be able to. "I was wondering, Mikasa –  _whydon'tyoulikeme?_ "

He spat it out as fast as he could, hoping she had understood. Standing before her, shifting from foot to foot, Jean felt like a school kid again. He hadn't been this nervous to talk to Mikasa in years; but now, with her fathomless black eyes trained on him, Jean felt his stomach flip.

(The alcohol probably wasn't helping).

"I love you, Kirchstein."

Wh- huh?

Something snapped in his brain when he heard that, Jean would swear it. Mikasa was staring at him, one corner of her mouth ticked up in amusement.

"I'm only saying this because you asked, you know. And you won't hear me say it again. I do love you, you and Bodt both. You're good friends. But I don't like either of you."

The mental whiplash was giving Jean a headache (again, not helped by the copious amounts of alcohol in his system). Once he comprehended the last bit though, he flinched back, stung.

It was ridiculous; he had come over to ask specifically about that, hadn't he? But to actually hear one of the people he admired most in the world say that she didn't like him… Jean rubbed a hand over his heart, as though that would lessen the sting. And  _Marco?_  Why on earth would anybody not like Marco? He was the sweetest, kindest, most amazing guy on the planet. Mikasa throwing him in wasn't something Jean would have ever anticipated.

"But  _why?_ " He asked, fighting his bleary vision to stay focused on her face. "We- we're friends, but you don't like us? What did we do?"

Even to Jean's intoxicated self his questions sounded plaintive.

Mikasa turned her head to look outside, where the sound of Eren Jaeger's crowing was distinctive even amongst their rowdy friends. She turned back to Jean, who felt something leaden form in his stomach at the hard look in her eyes.

"Because, Kirchstein. You make my brother a liar."


	2. Chapter 2

“What does she _mean_ , we make Eren a liar?”

Jean was stressed.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he wasn’t quite sure, the conversation he’d had with Mikasa the previous night was cemented in his brain even despite Jean’s best efforts to drown himself via shots. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he had staggered away from Mikasa’s piercing black gaze feeling vaguely guilty – hence the copious amounts of vodka shots he had practically inhaled, safely snuggled up with Marco in his blanket nest.

Marco himself had been very confused, and very drunkenly drowsy, so he’d been well asleep by the time Jean got to the point where the taller man generally cut him off.

Honestly, it hadn’t taken long for Jean to join his boyfriend in la-la-land after that. It’d been pure determination on Jean’s end to get beyond smashed that had him downing as many shots as he had before succumbing to sleep.

And now, the next evening, after the worst of the hangover was done with and Jean only felt a little seedy instead of deathly, he was trying to figure out what the hell Mikasa’s cryptic little comment was supposed to mean. He was pacing erratically in he and Marco’s bedroom, stalking back and forth at the end of their king size bed.

“I’m not sure, babe. Is- could it be something you and Eren fought about, back in high school?” Marco’s sweet freckled face was twisted a little in concern. He’d been hurt, when Jean told him what Mikasa said about not liking either of them. It’d pissed Jean off, honestly. How could Mikasa say something like that about the literal incarnation of human kindness? Marco couldn’t have done anything to deserve being dragged into whatever the fuck she thought Jean had done to Eren.

His boyfriend hadn’t been surprised though.

When questioned, Marco had just shrugged. “She feels distant sometimes, you know?”

And that was that.

Jean wracked his brain for anything that Eren could have held onto for all this time; they’d graduated high school six years ago, so if there was something, it had to be big.

But there was nothing. They’d squabbled over a million minor things, and come to blows over several important ones, but Jean was one-hundred per-cent sure that they’d never fought over anything so huge as to warrant Mikasa’s words. Besides…

 _“Eren doesn’t lie!”_ Jean gripped at his hair, pulling frustratedly. “ _I don’t get it!”_

“Hey, hey,” Marco got up from his place at the end of the bed, gently tugging Jean’s hands away from his head. “Don’t hurt yourself. We’ll figure it out together, alright?”

Jean stared up into his boyfriend’s warm eyes, and felt the familiar melting sensation in his chest that Marco had always evoked. They’d been together for eight years now, yet Marco still gave Jean new reasons to love him every day. He smiled up at the slightly taller man.

“Okay. Sorry babe, I’m just- I’m so confused.”

Marco slipped his arms around Jean’s waist, drawing him close and pressing their foreheads together.

“I am too,” he admitted. “We all know how upfront Eren is. And I’m worried about what we could have done that would make someone we know to be incredibly truthful into a liar. But we’re not going to figure anything out by stressing like this. Let’s try asking Mikasa to clarify tomorrow, yeah?”

Jean snorted, pressing a short kiss to Marco’s lips.  “Like that’ll work.”

Marco shrugged, smiling adorably. “It’s a start.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Aw, come on, Mikasa, can’t you just give us something else to go on?”

Jean was about ready to get down on his knees and beg. He and Marco had decided that asking her out for lunch was the best way to go; there was no doubt that Mikasa knew exactly what they wanted, but she also never turned down a free meal.

The three of them were sitting in a cute little café in central Stohess; it was light and airy, and a little on the expensive side (Jean was not too proud to admit that he’d chosen the place partially as a bribe; Mikasa loved their chicken sliders). Mikasa leaned back in her chair, coolly meeting Jean’s gaze. She’d refused to answer any of their questions while they were eating, and now that they were just sipping on their drinks, Mikasa was still ignoring their pleading.

“It’s not my place,” she’d said more than once. “It’s not my answer to give.”

“I told you, Kirchstein,” she replied now. Her black eyes were trained unwaveringly on Jean’s. Beside them, Marco was biting his lip. “You asked me a question, and I answered it. If you want anything more, figure it out yourselves, or ask Eren.”

Jean could not accurately verbalise how much he did not want to do that.

Luckily, Marco was there to do it for him.

“It’s hard, Mikasa. You know how Jean and Eren are. There’s no way that would go well.” He stared beseechingly at her. “And even if I asked, Eren would just think that Jean forced me to.”

Unfortunately, Marco was right. He and Eren had a surprisingly sweet friendship (that Jean had in no way, shape, or form, ever been jealous of), but whenever the three of them were together, it was Eren and Jean’s natural reaction to butt heads. Poor Marco had been dragged into their shit more times than any of them could count.

Mikasa shrugged. “That’s your problem. I guess you’ll just have to figure it out.”

The background bustle of the café swelled then, and Mikasa glanced down at her watch. “I’ve got to go, I’ve got a shift this afternoon.” She drained the last of her green tea and stood, staring stoically down at them. “Eren would probably answer if you asked him, you know. It’s you two who need to be prepared to hear it.”

And off she went, as if she hadn’t just dropped another unfathomable statement like a bomb.

Jean slapped a hand over his face, groaning loudly.

Marco giggled. “I see what you mean, babe. Cryptic-Mikasa is rather frustrating, isn’t she?”

“What is _happening_?” Jean asked despairingly. “Eren’s lying, Mikasa’s gone all mysterious: has the world ended and we just didn’t notice?”

Oh God, what if _Armin_ was the next one to go all weird? What would that even look like?

Jean leaned forward and took both of Marco’s hands in his, staring beseechingly into warmly bemused brown eyes. “Marco, my love,” he said solemnly. “Please promise me you won’t talk to Armin until we figure out what is going on.”

Of course, his wonderful boyfriend immediately understood where Jean was going with that.

“Oh my god, Jean!” Marco laughed. “I’m not promising that! I’m supposed to be hanging out with him and Historia next weekend, so if you think he might be the next one to undergo a personality transplant, you’d better talk to Eren before then.”

Never mind. Not-wonderful boyfriend (always-wonderful boyfriend).

Jean wondered mournfully if talking to Eren on Friday would save Marco from any Armin-weirdness on Saturday.


	4. Chapter 4

_Oi, Eren, Mikasa_  
_said something_  
 _weird and I don't_  
 _get it_

_Explain_

_wtf horse face_   
_do u think im_   
_psychic ur gonna_   
_have to explain a_   
_little more than_   
_that_

_later tho im w_   
_reiner and them_   
_atm ;)_

Jean refused to admit that he was relieved.

Tossing his phone to the other side of the couch so he didn't have to look at it, Jean stretched until he felt that satisfying pop in his shoulders.

It was the Thursday after he and Marco had taken Mikasa out for lunch, and Jean was a little embarrassed by the fact that he was actually proud of himself for not leaving it until Friday. Sure, his attempt hadn't got him anywhere, and barely counted as an attempt in the first place, but it was  _something_. Eren now knew that Jean wanted to talk with him, therefore, the ball was in his court. Jean was content to wait until Eren got back to him.

At this point, Marco would just have to deal with whatever weirdness Armin might throw his way.

Jean wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a frozen pizza to chuck in the oven. Eren's second text lingered in his mind, giving Jean the same weird feeling that it always had.  _'I'm with Reiner and them at the moment'._

'And them' being Bertholdt and Annie.

The three of them, Reiner, Bert, and Annie, were a throuple, which was fine. Jean hadn't ever had any kind of problem with that, or polyamory in general. Except then Eren joined them, sorta, and that prickled at Jean like nothing else. He wasn't sure why. Annie had some kinda thing going on with Armin outside of her relationship with Reiner and Bert (and Eren), which made Jean feel exactly zero things.

So why did Eren's involvement bother him so much?

He set the timer for his pizza and collapsed back onto the sofa to wait, still mulling over his thoughts. Three hours later, with the pizza demolished and still no reply from Eren, Jean was starting to rethink his decision. He wasn't sure he had the patience to wait for his friend to remember that Jean had even asked a question.

"Babe? You alright?"

"Wah!"

Jean, who had been spent the majority of his day on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, suddenly found himself with a vision full of freckles. He launched himself up with an embarrassingly squeaky shout.

Marco, the freckled vision in question, stepped back before they knocked foreheads, chuckling. "Little lost in thought there, Jeanbo?"

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Jean's temple. Jean smiled, turning his head to catch Marco's lips in a proper kiss.

"Welcome home," he murmured, playfully rubbing their noses together. "I didn't know you were working on becoming a ninja in your spare time."

Marco straightened up, laughing. "Shows how much you know. Mikasa taught me her ways years ago."

Terrifyingly enough, Jean wasn't sure if he was joking. It was entirely plausible that he  _wasn't_.

"On the subject of Mikasa," Jean started tentatively, deciding he didn't want to know. "I text Eren today."

"Oh? How did it go?"

Marco's interested (and slightly hopeful) reply made Jean's face burn with embarrassment.

"It, uh. It didn't."

He meekly opened his texts and passed the phone up for Marco to read. The instant sigh-snort that his boyfriend let out only made his blush worse.

"Jean, baby-"

"I know!" Jean cut him off, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "It's just so awkward! I don't know how to start!"

"Should we do it together, then?" Marco suggested, gently taking hold of Jean's hands. "And just make sure that he knows it's important to both of us."

" _Please."_

Marco laughed. "Okay. When he gets back to you, tell him we want to talk. Maybe he can come over this weekend if he's not busy."

Jean nodded, determined. Together, they would get to the bottom of this.


	5. Chapter 5

Eren ended up texting Jean back just before noon the next day.

Jean wouldn’t say that he _panicked_ , exactly. He’d just been surprised by the sudden notification is all, and accidentally thrown his phone into his laughing boyfriend’s face.

Luckily, Marco was an angel and only busted his gut cracking up over Jean’s idiocy for ten minutes before taking mercy on him. He was also the one to text Eren an invitation to theirs for dinner that night; nothing fancy, just take-out because they wanted to talk to him about something. Sometimes Jean really admired Marco and his steadiness. Jean couldn’t act casual to save himself.

He spent the entirety of that afternoon working himself up into a frenzy and pretending that he wasn’t; Jean deep cleaned both the kitchen and the bathroom, mopped the entire apartment, and was halfway through wiping down the windows before Marco finally got fed up with his nervous energy and dragged him down into their bed, making love to him so thoroughly that Jean forgot everything but his boyfriend’s name.

He was much more relaxed by the time Eren showed up.

“Hey, guys!”

Eren let himself in, as always. His quick _‘on my way up’_ text was one he had sent a million times before, and it never failed to make Jean smile.

“Smells good in here! Indian?”

Jean, in the kitchen re-plating their dinner, found himself far less nervous than he’d thought he would be. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was the normality of the situation – maybe Jean was just an idiot. He laughed while Eren ribbed him about ‘always making more dishes for yourselves’, as though he didn’t help them every damn time, ignoring Marco’s protests that he was a guest. Marco playfully snapped a tea towel at the two  of them when they started bickering, and Eren snapped one right back, starting a minor war.

It was fun.

In fact, it was so fun and normal that by the time dinner was over and the dishes done, Jean’s guard was completely down. The three men lounged lazily in the living room; Jean laying back against Marco’s chest, in between his legs, and Eren sat sideways in an armchair with his legs tossed over the arm. A comfortable silence had settled over them, one that Jean was thoroughly enjoying. Quiet time in their friend group was a rarity, and quiet time with _Eren_ even more so. After their rocky beginnings, Jean always felt a little privileged when Eren allowed himself to chill down around him. He wondered if Eren felt the same.

“So,” Eren’s head lolled to the side and he pinned them with his intense green gaze. “What’d Mikasa say that’s got you guys all worked up, huh?”

Jean stiffened and felt Marco do the same behind him. He knew they were having the same thought – how had neither of them even stopped to consider the fact that Mikasa had probably already told her beloved brother everything?

“You already know.” Jean said it, pointed and sure. Sure, he might’ve told Eren in that first text that he was bothered by something Mikasa had said, but he knew in his gut that Eren’d known the whole time.

Mikasa had never kept a secret from Eren in her life. Of course she’d gone right home and confessed to him what she had let slip. It was pure idiocy on Jean and Marco’s part that they had forgotten that particular law of the universe.

Eren’s mouth quirked up at the sides. “Yeah.”

Indignation welled up in Jean’s chest like a flood. He’d been worrying his fucking ass off over this for days, and all the while, Eren had been sitting back, waiting like an absolute asshole.

“ _And_?” He demanded. “You gonna explain or what?”

Eren sighed. He rolled his head back and draped an arm over his face. “Yeah, I’ll explain. It’s only been what, eight years?”

“What?!”

Marco blurted it out at the same time as Jean, and the hurt in his voice raised Jean’s feelings from indignation to straight up _pissed_.

It didn’t last long.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” Eren was still as stone where he lay. His voice was as flat as Jean had ever heard it. “It’s just a little hard to tell you that I’ve kinda been in love with you both since we were sixteen.”


End file.
